Flesh amongst Stone
by EndlessHalflight
Summary: This story follows the trials of Gabriele, an assassin recruit thrust into a sinister chain of events. Set during and after the events of Assassin's Creed Brotherhood, so SPOILERS likely at some stage.
1. Chapter 1

Gabriele scowled, wrapping yet more cloth around his palms. He'd missed the beam again, and nursing a sore rear and pride, couldn't help but feel jealous towards the young man swathed in black robes, standing on that very same beam. Of course, he'd gotten there on his first try. Next to him, there was a small flurry of teal as Annetta failed too, so it was time for his go. Taking a running start, Gabriele flexed his fingers, jumping just before the beam, bringing his arms up and his legs close to his chest, and using the momentum to swing round to land on top of the wood.

'Finally.' The man spoke Gabriele's own thoughts aloud. 'I was beginning to think the sun would rise before you made it.'

'I only took four goes,' he began to protest, but was cut off.

'That's three goes too many then, eh? I guess you're only young, so I'll let it slide...'

'You're just two years older than - ' Gabriele stopped, face flushing red as he noticed the man smiling. He was teasing him! Below them, Annette coughed for their attention.

'Well, I'm all out of tries,' she muttered, shooting them both a glare quickly, 'and don't you say it's because I'm a girl, Zeno, or I'll cut breathing holes in all your robes.'

'Wasn't going to,' he retorted gruffly, raising both hands in mock defeat, but it was an obvious lie. Gabriele was too busy staring at Annette to care. Her hood had fallen back to show her tightly curled hair, and as he flicked his gaze over her face their eyes met. Instantly he looked away, as if burned.

'Gabriele.'

The night was coming to an end.

'Gabriele, are you deaf, or do I have to repeat myself to get through that thick skull of yours?'

Dawn was rising.

'Gabriele. Gabriele!' Somebody was shaking his shoulders. He opened an eyelid to see another of the assassin recruits standing over him, arms folded. It was Ottavio, grinning wildly. Gabriele groaned.

'Why'd you have to grab me so hard,' he joked. 'Can't get enough of me?'

'You sleep like a log. Well, more like a tree trunk actually, but you get the picture, which wasn't pretty mind you - all drool and vacant expression - ' Ottavio yelped as he thumped him with a pillow, ducking the next blow. 'Come on, you'll be late for Zeno's graduation ceremony.' The smile fell from Gabriele's face. It had been five months since the events he'd been dreaming about, and since then the race between the two of them had only gotten more...personal. Zeno had always been one step ahead, as always, and no matter how hard Gabriele tried, no matter how much he trained. He had, as the master had said, some 'talent', after all. It angered Gabriele that someone could be born in such a way that let them beat those that should have been equals, with minimal effort. Perhaps if his parents had been a little more considerate, they could have given him a proper man's name too.

_'Hero of God' indeed!_

'What?' Gabriele realised he'd spoken aloud.

'Oh, nothing,' he said, waving dismissively, whilst grabbing a spare tunic and putting on his best fake smile. 'We can't be late for Zeno!' They hurried downstairs, into the long gilt-lined hall that would now be used for the first time.

_By the wrong person._ Gabriele bit down on his lip as the two of them joined the end of the line of recruits, standing on either side of an ornate rug that extended to the far side of the room, up onto a platform where both a brazier, Machiavelli, and the master himself - Ezio Auditore - were waiting. All of the recruits turned their heads to watch Zeno entering the room, his usual recruit robes replaced with that of an assassin's, similar to the master's.

'How long do you think it'll take before he dyes them black?' Gabriele whispered to Ottavio, but was replied to by a finger on his lips. Silence, it said. This was, after all, the day all the recruits looked forward to, despite the branding of the finger, which he winced at, almost imagining the feel of hot iron against flesh, the agony.

_And you're supposed to not make a sound!_ It was an expression of control as well as a symbol of the order, one of the most valued attributes an assassin could have. Of course, Zeno did not let out a murmur, and as the ceremony came to an end with the two - no, three, assassins leaving to take the leap of faith - Gabriele realised that he would have cried out. _I'm not ready._ The realisation was sickening and calming at the same time. Perhaps he'd overestimated himself.

'Are you alright? You look a little pale.'

'I'm fine,' he didn't need to look up to know it was Annette's voice. 'Just all the excitement I guess. Zeno's a role model for all of us.' He hurried out, avoiding the other recruits, who were already thinking up questions they'd ask the new assassin about Ezio. Tiber Island was small compared to the rest of Rome, but it had enough places to sit alone, out of sight from guards and nosy civilians. Settling for a grassy outcrop next to the water's edge, he sat down, the air growing colder as night set in.

'Hey,' Gabriele whipped a curved stiletto out as a hand brushed the bare skin at the back of his neck. He pinned his attacker to the ground.

'Wait, what?' He drew the blade back, sheathing it. 'Annette? You should know better than to sneak up on me like that!'

'I just wanted to see if you were alright.' Guilt pained Gabriele's features as he saw a trickle of blood, running from a shallow cut on her forehead, and he turned his head away. A pair of arms stopped him. ' Gabriele, look at me. Just look at me for once.' More guilt followed, but he did as she asked. 'I know you're jealous of Zeno.' He felt himself deflate, outer walls crumbling. What powers did women possess that they could understand men so easily?

'It's childish,' he muttered.

'Yes.' Her reply surprised him, and an uncomfortable silence fell for a short while. 'But that's why I like you. We're all in our twenties, and yet most of us have already buried that which makes us human. Emotions. Sometimes I feel like I'm surrounded by statues, that use humour to mask the fact that they've lost something.' She smiled, watching the shock grow on his face. 'So when you admit that you've been childish, it reminds me why I like you. Really like you. You're not made of stone.'

_But isn't that what we have to be? The true sacrifice an assassin has to make?_

'Come on, Gabriele, I want to show you something,' she held out her hand towards his.

He only hesitated for a moment before he took it.


	2. Chapter 2

It was noon, the midday sun causing a bead of sweat to roll off Gabriele's brow, but he didn't care. He was with someone who shared secrets and emotions with him, and that was the best feeling of all. She even caused something strange to flare in what felt like his soul. From what he could remember of his days as a tailor's son, and the petite girl who used to visit with her air of aristocracy, it was 'the beginnings of love', as his father used to say. As long as it didn't turn out to be a one sided fool's errand - he'd been beaten up by her brother when he tried to ask her if she felt the same, which she hadn't - or the result of a gorgeous dress. But recruit robes were hardly seducing. Still, he couldn't help but admire her curves where the fabric clung to them.

'There,' Annette pointed across the plaza at the Pantheon. As he followed her finger, she splashed him from the fountain they were sitting on, soaking his back.

'Hey,' he chuckled, 'that's actually quite refreshing. I'd forgotten how hot it could be out here.'

'It makes a change to creeping around in the night.' Truth be told, Machiavelli would tan their hides red if he caught them out here, not so much for the time but the place. The Pantheon was well protected, and if a guard started to ask too many questions, the plaza was far too open to avoid an arrow in the back. But risks had to be taken sometimes, didn't they?

'Want to look inside?' Gabriele asked, and stood up when he saw the expression on Annette's face.

'You bet I do,' she whispered, slightly scared. Having been brought up in the poorer districts of Rome, she'd never been near the Pantheon, and was still instilled with thoughts of God from all her family's church going back then. The two of them skirted around the edges of the large room, avoiding the godly beam of light that fell from the hole in the ceiling, Annette trying her best not to reach out to touch the elaborate altarpieces arranged around the room. People were kneeling, lips moving silently, as if they were muttering spells of some sort. There was a small clang as Annette backed into a golden candelabra, and one of the priests glared at them. It was surprisingly unwelcoming for some reason.

'Let's go, please,' she whispered, clutching at Gabriele's sleeve. 'Something's wrong.' She was right, there was a certain chill to the air, and not all of it came from the worshippers. He'd read similar accounts in one of the old scriptures, back at Tiber Island. 'Assassin's instinct', some unexplained power that came with the teachings, perhaps a result of training heightening the senses - or maybe it was more unnatural, like the rare eagle vision Ezio himself possessed. Either way, he didn't want to wait to find out.

They were halfway across the plaza when carriages thundered into the midst of the crowd. Both of them were separated as people flung themselves out of the way, desperate not to get crushed, pushing the young recruits apart from each other in a mass of screaming bodies. Guards stepped forward.

'Annette!' Yelling, Gabriele scanned his surroundings, and caught sight of her for a moment before the horses stopped, obscuring his view. He darted towards where she'd been, but a guard shoved him back again.

'Stay in line,' he barked. The door to one of the carriages swung open, and Gabriele couldn't help but watch to see who it was. An armoured boot stepped out, followed by another, and his face drained of colour when he finally saw their owner.

'Cesare Borgia,' his breath caught in his throat. The master's primary target, here! If he could just get a shot... Not even Zeno would be able to overshadow him then. The man stood silently, one hand resting on his sword's hilt as he observed the crowd. Barely breathing, Gabriele readied a smoke bomb. He'd throw it to the ground to cause confusion, and in that moment cut his way through, to Cesare himself. There was the sound of scuffling from the other side of the carriages, however, and he paused as he thought he heard a woman's shout. Who -

'Let go of me, you bastardo!' Two guards emerged, holding both of Annette's arms firmly between them. She was raging, hidden blades whirring madly, but she could reach neither of them. Gabriele paled. The smoke bomb slipped from his grasp, rolling away through the crowd, but he didn't notice.

'Saw weapons 'neath her cloak, tho't she might be hopin' to kill you sir.' Cesare turned around slowly, smiling at the look of sudden fear on Annette's face. He placed the tip of his sword at her throat. Clenching his fists, Gabriele had to try hard not to attack, as she'd be killed within seconds if he did so. He'd have to wait for an opening, and hope for the best.

_This is Annette we're talking about!_ Now he understood what true agony was. Watching that monster toss her life between his claws was unbearable, but he forced himself to watch, waiting for a drop in the defence. But it never came.

'So Ezio Auditore sends his little puppets to attack me? This is an insult, I have to admit. Does he think me so easily gotten rid of?' The smile disappeared from Cesare's face, sword blade biting deeper into Annette's throat. 'Or do you simply think you could win favour with your master if you killed me?' Gabriele winced. The words weren't intended for him, but they still cut deep. 'Unfortunately for you, I'm too busy to let you just learn a lesson today. The fewer loose strands, the better.' He drew back his sword arm, motioning one of the men restraining her to strike. Annette simply closed her eyes. Giving up.

'Now!' A gruff voice from behind Gabriele made him start, and he watched, stunned, as Zeno leapt past him, blade flashing left and right, hewing the guards from Annette's sides. It had never been so good to see him. Rushing forwards, Gabriele instantly joined the fray, relieved at the assassin's sudden appearance, that someone older than him was taking charge.

_We'll be alright. Everything's going to be alright now._ Something inside said. It was comforting. Meanwhile, people screamed, the crowd fleeing once more, away from the bloodshed. Gabriele let Zeno go after the demon Cesare, taking care of the guards for him instead. This was what the master had meant by working together. Not rushing for the prize at the same time. Perhaps if he'd realised that earlier, he'd be in assassin robes too.

Slish-slash, crimson painting the carriages and his robes. Another weave and his blade crunched into a man's ribs. Again and again, Annette's back coming against his so that they killed as one, until the area around the carriages stood clear. Cesare was backing away, calm despite the chaos unfurling, guards widening the gap between him and the assassins' blades. But instead of going after the man, Zeno grabbed the two recruits suddenly, tossing his sword to the floor so that he could drag them alongside.

'Run!' He hissed, throwing them forwards. It soon became apparent why. The roofs around the plaza had guards pulling back crossbow bolts at them, at least five in total. A death trap after all. Thankfully, the carriages provided some cover, and they hurtled round them, bolts clattering against the blood-stained metal. One clipped Annette's leg, and she winced as it tore a gouge out of the side. But they would make it. It was a mess, and they should have never risked coming here, but they were going to be safe after all. They'd even taken a fair chunk of Cesare's men out too. In the time it took for the archers to rewind their bolts, they'd managed to reach the relative cover of the market stalls, which kept them out of sight of the rooftops. Annette's leg was bleeding badly, but she was keeping pace. Her small frame meant that she was faster than the two men, and so she reached safety first, disappearing round an alleyway corner. Soon all they'd have to fear would be Machiavelli's words.

'Nngh,' there was a gurgle from Gabriele's side, and the pair of running shadows became one. He ground to a halt, forcing himself to turn around, his relief turning to horror.

_No, no, no, please no! _Zeno was stumbling, mouth agape. One hand was clenched over his abdomen, blood seeping from between the gaps in his fingers, the other stretched out, grasping at thin air. The assassin coughed, crimson splattering onto the cobblestones. No bolt protruded from his wound, but it bled all the same, faster and heavier with each step the man took. 'Gabriele,' he shook his head, entire body beginning to shiver from shock, 'run. Please. For God's sake run.' A gunshot rang out, and Zeno's entire frame jolted forwards, life draining from his features. He fell, hitting the stone face first.

Dead.

By the carriages, Cesare stood with his handgun still raised. He moved to aim it at Gabriele, who was still with fear, flicking back the hammer slowly.

He stopped, lowering it.

'Go,' his mouth seemed to say, taunting him. 'Go suffer your mistake.'

Gabriele did what any lesser man would have done - he fled.


End file.
